


those nights (i'll be your rabbit in the headlight)

by nyachnyachn



Series: Million Pieces (TSV One-shots) [1]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, and the very veeeery slight implication of something sexual, thats it i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyachnyachn/pseuds/nyachnyachn
Summary: Brett is staring at him again. Eddy doesn't know what to do about it.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Million Pieces (TSV One-shots) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578616
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81





	those nights (i'll be your rabbit in the headlight)

Brett is staring at him again.

They had just finished their consecutive filming for today, and Eddy stood up to stop the recording when he felt a familiar gaze on his back for the third time. He keeps moving, eyes never leaving the camera display as it shows Brett putting his face on his hand, watching him with that deadpan stare. He knows what that stare and posture mean: Brett is contemplating something, definitely related to Eddy, yet Eddy doesn't know what.

Eddy stops when he's in reaching distance of the camera. His hand presses one button to stop the recording and takes the camera out of its stand, while his brain rewinds everything he's done that deserves that kind of stare. Nothing unusual, he thinks. He taps the screen to show their last shooting, another roasting video, at the top left among countless others they had done for this week. Just brainstorming, practice, lunch, filming. He plays the video, watching himself glancing and smiling at Brett as the other delivers their usual greeting—

A realization snaps into him.

Eddy pauses. Anxiety starts crawling up his throat.

After all, how do you explain to your best friend—who, most likely, already knows—that you've been hiding a crush on them for almost ten years?

Well, 'crush' might not be the right term here. More like unrequited love. Or yearning that gets exponentially deeper and deeper the more you spend time with him—and Eddy has spent time with Brett _a lot_ that it's probably an endless chasm by now and Eddy has no chance to get out. He has accepted that fate a long time ago.

What Eddy's worried about is he doesn't know what reaction he will get from Brett. At the very least, he knows his best friend won't get mad about it, but it's definitely going to be awkward as hell. And embarrassing.

But Eddy will take the possibility of getting teased about it by Brett, while pretending he has moved on from his feelings, if it spares their friendship, rather than the higher chance that there will be an unfixed crack in their friendship. What if the awkwardness keeps going on, permeating into every part of their dynamics? He can vision how it will affect their videos, then TwoSet will deteriorate, and they will be forced to leave it, and then they will grow further and further apart until they are practically strangers—

"Eddy? Why are you still standing there?"

Snapping out of his trance, Eddy swivels to see Brett crouching on one corner with most of their filming equipment already tidied and packed up. Eddy didn't even hear Brett moving around the room.

As if reading Eddy's thought, Brett laughs. "Were you zoning out while watching ourselves roasting another bad violin acting?" He gets up, pats Eddy's shoulder and takes the camera from his hand, watching themselves cackling like a maniac in it. "Is it that boring?"

"No." Eddy ruffles his own hair. "Okay, I don't know. I only watched the first minute or so, but I'm sure the fans will love it."

Brett nods. "Of course. They have been asking for us to review this film for a while." Pausing the video, he looks at Eddy, his eyes soften in a concerned gaze. "Man, you look very tired. Did you get enough sleep yesterday?"

"Yes—maybe." Eddy shakes his head. He _did_ sleep enough yesterday. He's just tired from his spiraling mind, but Brett doesn't need to know that.

After putting the camera at the small desk near them, Brett pats his shoulder then pauses. Only for a split second, but Eddy is so tuned to his ticks that he knows it's odd and unintentional. And Brett is biting the inside of his cheek, which means he's nervous.

 _Oh_ _my god_ _._ _He's going to bring it up._

"Can't it wait?" Eddy asks at the same time Brett says, "Want to get some bubble tea?"

They both stop to stare at each other.

Brett's face scrunches up in confusion. Normally, Eddy will fawn over how cute that is and how he wants to smooth it out with kisses, but he's too busy panicking as Brett asks, "Can't what wait?"

"Uh. Bubble tea?"

"We asked at the same time." _Damn it, that's a good point_. "And you seemed worried for a second there. What did you think I was going to say?"

He searches for an excuse, but one look from the other sizzles it out. Shoulders slumped, Eddy starts, "You were staring at me."

Now it's Brett's turn to look uncomfortable. Eddy's heart plummets. "Really?"

"Yeah, three times."

"Sorry? I didn't realize—"

"Brett."

That shuts him up. Brett looks down to avoid his eyes, then begins to fidget—a contrast with his usual composure. Realizing that he's fidgeting, he stops, only to bite his lips. Clearly, he isn't ready to talk about this.

Neither is Eddy.

Cue awkward silence.

Great, Eddy can already tell this is going to go _swimmingly,_ so he decides to speak first after an excruciating minute, with a calmness he doesn't feel internally. "Look, I don't want us to make a big deal of it. We can pretend it's nothing if it makes you feel better. I don't want to ruin our friendship."

Still silence. More fidgeting.

Eddy musses his hair. "Maybe we should take a break from each other, for one or two weeks. Give us space to reevaluate things and think more clearly."

No response.

"Okay. Great." Eddy turns to collect his violin case, laptop, and backpack. "I'm going home. See you next—"

"I love you!"

 _What?_ Eddy should have heard it wrong. He turns back to meet Brett's shocked expression, which probably mirrors his own. "What?"

"Uh— I—" Brett stutters, red starting to climb up his neck and face. Then, he exhales loudly. Squaring his shoulders, he meets Eddy's eyes. The resigned look in his eyes clashes with the even tone of his voice when he answers, "I said I love you."

"Romantically?"

Again, Brett sighs. "Yeah. What else?"

"You had said it before. On the night we—"

"—reached that crowdfunding milestone, yes, of course I remember. I was the one who said it." Glancing away, he folds his arms and _petulantly—_ Brett doesn't do petulant except as a joke—adds, "I also remember you said it back to me and then to our supporters nonchalantly."

Eddy frowns. "Nonchalantly? I also felt overwhelmed and grateful for the support, so I—" He pauses, taking in Brett's cringing expression and gestures before understanding comes over his face. "Oh."

"That was unintentional, but I had meant it the same way I said it just now. It's clear you're not interested in me in that way, so—"

Eddy blurts, "We are both idiots."

Brett frowns. "Is that supposed to be a non-sequitur?"

"No, no, I—" Eddy can't help but tickled by the absurdity of this situation. People say that they know each other's ticks and read each other's feelings so well they might as well share one brain cell, yet they miss each other's signals all this time. It reminds him of that one joke about violists they had made a million times—and isn't that _ironic_? Two _violinists_ missing each other's signal?

 _Oh my god, no._ The chuckling gets louder. _P_ _erish that thought, Eddy, that's too funny_.

He glances at Brett, looking equally offended and unamused, and Eddy just _loses it_.

"Wait—" he chokes out in between uncontrollable laughing. _Ow, my stomach._ "Wait a min—"

"I'm waiting."

"It's not—" he tries again, "you—"

"Sure, Eddy."

Eddy gives up to continue laughing.

Half a minute later, after taking a big gulp of breath to calm himself down, Eddy wipes off his tears and clears his throat. "Sorry. Viola joke, you know."

"No, I don't."

"I'll tell you later. It's so funny, I swear." Then, his shit-eating grin shifts into a warm smile as Eddy steps into Brett's personal space. "I think there's been a misunderstanding."

Then Eddy takes off Brett's eyeglasses and places them on a small table behind before cupping Brett's face in his hands. As Eddy slowly leans down, he sees Brett's eyes widen in surprise, falls to Eddy's lips and up again hesitantly. Eddy tilts his own head, and it seems that's enough an affirmation in itself, because Brett steps to close the distance.

There's no butterflies fluttering inside his stomach or flowers blooming inside his head like in romantic books or movies. Instead, there's a feeling of soft lips moving with his as time slows down its tempo, a note stretched long and sweetly at the end of a movement, letting the players to savor this moment as the audiences of their studio room take it all in.

And Eddy wouldn't have it any other way.

Eddy pulls back first, savoring that last note that's still lingering in the air between the air they share.

They both open their eyes, still an inch of space between them.

"I love you too." Eddy put their foreheads together, his fingers caress the smooth skin under them. "Romantically, if you haven't got the hint yet."

Slightly smirking, Brett quips, "Maybe I need more hints."

"Now you're just being obtuse on purpose." He moves forward again, whispering, "But I love it."

Their second kiss starts out like the first: lightly and tentatively. Then it builds and builds gradually as their mouth part and connect again.

And again.

And again.

Mouths open and tongues intertwined, they push and pull, losing themselves in the taste of each other. Hands try to reach anywhere and everywhere—Brett's hands tangled in Eddy's hair, and Eddy's hand on the small of Brett's back and on his waist, fists knotted in his shirt. Bodies pressed together until there's no space between them.

More. Eddy wants _more._

Eddy pulls back to trail kisses along Brett's jaw, and the other instinctively lifts his face, offering Eddy access to the smooth expanse of his neck. He nips at Brett's Adam's apple, feeling the rumble as the other groans. Eddy keeps going, to the juncture of his neck then his right shoulder, kissing and nipping and sucking while Brett lets out various noises of pleasure.

Eddy can't get enough of those sounds.

Brett tugs at his hair. "E-Eddy—"

Eddy hums noncommittally, stopping to contemplate at that one enticing mole.

"I—"

Brett's voice breaks into a loud moan, his hands pulling Eddy's hair tightly, when Eddy decides to bite on that area. "Stop—" Another moan, but smaller, as Eddy switches to suck hard. "You'll leave a—" Breath hitching at the sensation of tongue licking his skin. "Hickey," he finishes weakly when Eddy pulls back to look at his work.

Absentmindedly, Eddy traces the red mark with his finger, noticing the slight shiver the other makes at that touch. "Sorry."

"You're not."

"Mm yeah."

Eddy leans in to kiss Brett's lips again.

They find themselves not talking for a long, long while.

–

Later, cuddling on the sofa with his boyfriend, Eddy tells the viola joke he had from earlier. Their boisterous laughter can be heard throughout the apartment.

–

Extra:

Few days later, out of nowhere, Eddy says, "So, when did you realize you love me? I bet I'm the one who has it longer."

Brett keeps playing the violin, practicing his Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto, since their subscriber count is getting closer to 2 millions—only a thousand more or so. He wants to give the best performance for their fans. And he doesn't envy Eddy's leisure at this milestone; he will have to drop his Sibelius next, Brett's going to make sure of that. "I doubt it."

"Are you scared you're going to lose?"

Brett barely gives a glance at Eddy's shit-eating grin. He just sighs, putting down his violin and bow on the table. There goes another one of their practice sessions—they have lost a few of them to make-out session lately. "Okay, I'll bite. What's the catch?"

Eddy's grin gets wider. "The loser should follow through with anything the winner wants."

At this, Brett perks up, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Anything?"

Eddy nods. "Anything."

"How do I know you aren't lying?"

"I won't. We'll know if one of us is lying anyway."

"Say it on the count of three?"

"Sure. One, two—"

"When you fell sick at Taiwan," Brett answers at the same time Eddy speaks, "Your high school graduation."

Brett stares at Eddy with disbelief. "No way. That's—" Brett pauses to count with his fingers. "That's _ten_ years! No way!"

"I've been having a crush on you for a year before that," Eddy adds. "When I was sick in Taiwan, huh?"

"Yeah. Why my high school graduation anyway?"

"Don't know. I remember looking at you, cuter than ever in your graduation suit on top of your uniform, and suddenly realizing I want to spend my lifetime with you," Eddy admits casually, as if he's stating a fact, not a sweet declaration that makes warmth blooming inside Brett's chest. Brett can't stop the smile forming on his face even if he tries. "Also, I wasn't as discreet as I thought I was. People often teased us as a couple even back then, remember?"

Brett does remember. He thought it was only a testament of how close they were back then. "Yeah."

"My sister too," Eddy groans, as if recalling something particularly embarrassing. "You don't understand how humiliating it was those times she called you as his brother-in-law in front of me."

"That was funny." Brett can faintly remember those moments. "Now I know why you kept glaring at your sister whenever I visit your house."

"It was a wonder why you were so clueless about my feelings."

"It also applies to you, you know."

"True, but," the shit-eating grin comes back, "I win, and you lose."

Unfazed, Brett shrugs, already prepared for any bizarre idea his boyfriend may cook up in his mind after all those shenanigans they have done for the sake of content. He puts his violin back in the case. "Alright. I'm your slave for today, or whatever."

"Slave, huh?"

Brett belatedly realizes his mistake. That's not Eddy's usual tone—this voice is deeper, heavier, and the hairs on Brett's arms raise. He turns to peek at Eddy's face and that's—

That's not a good look at all. That dark, hungry gaze in the other's eyes. And that tongue peeking out to lick those kissable lips, as if Eddy can't wait to eat him alive—

 _What the hell_ , Brett thinks, his heart beats loudly in his ears. He doesn't know Eddy can pull that kind of expression or, even more, does it _so well_ it leaves Brett feeling so much like a rabbit cornered by a predator, body frozen in place.

He gulps.

This is so going to be a different kind of punishment, and Brett doesn't know if he's going to be prepared after all.

–

Turns out, he's _not._ At all.

But he doesn't mind.

**Author's Note:**

> (crossposted on wattpad)
> 
> title based on the song "those nights" by bastille
> 
> this is my first ever try to write making out scenes and very very slightly hint at something sexual,,, and i already feel so embarrassed i don't know how i'll deal with the nsfw ideas later lmaooo


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